


Occupied

by LilithsLullaby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, F/M, Porn, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithsLullaby/pseuds/LilithsLullaby
Summary: A trip to the ladies room leads to an unforgettable encounter with the God of Mischief.Alternate Title: I mean, who doesn’t want to have a quickie in the bathroom with Loki?





	Occupied

**Author's Note:**

> This has always been one of my favorite sort of fantasies ;) My husband and I were at a bar recently and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. So I knew I just had to share it with you all. Enjoy!

You can’t ignore it any longer. Like an itch that can’t be scratched, just under the surface of your heated flesh. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Your legs twist together, giving pressure to a burning need. It’s that same need that ultimately drives you to stand. The motion is sudden. It startles your date who stares up at you with a baffled expression. His mouth is gapping open as if he had just been in the middle of quite an astounding statement. Not that you’d been paying much attention to him for the past ten minutes. You have been fixated on another. Trapped like a moth drawn to the flame, flying toward certain death with glee. 

You mumble an excuse as you rise. You shift your chair awkwardly away and maneuver toward the restrooms. Instantly, you feel a rush of relief wash over you. You are free from his eye contact. Perhaps the spell has been broken. But in its place is now the mild pang of guilt sinking into the pit of your stomach. It hadn’t been the most thrilling date of your life but he deserves better than this. Better than you fleeing to the restroom to do the unthinkable. But what you leave behind is merely another forgettable attempt at finding your mate. Another hopeless effort.

And that pulse between your legs only aids in pulling you further away from the remnants of his conversation. It came from a single glance as you shifted your gaze in defeated boredom. Your eyes held to the stranger, or rather, a long forgotten lover. And they lingered there far longer than they should have. The unnatural green of his irises hinted at something foreign, beyond comprehension. Something tempting you to dive into the unknown once again with complete abandon. He smiled for you and the arrow struck right through your chest. 

You have to get away. You need to separate yourself from the source of your infliction. You need to leave him there, smirking at you from the bar as if he’s already won.

You slam shut the door of the bathroom stall and slump onto the toilet seat. Panties slide down to meet your ankles. You sigh into your hands but hesitate to relieve yourself. Your hands fall away from your face, landing in your lap. Fingers linger at the apex of your thighs. They smooth over your supple flesh in lazy strokes. The throbbing persists like a war drum, signaling destruction; the absolute oblivion of your sanity. In defeat, your fingers find your folds with a deep exhale of pleasure. You arch your back and close your eyes. Your legs fall open as you slide a single digit home. You are practically dripping. And as you move your finger in and out, you imagine those piercing green eyes watching you. Your fingers curl and your knees buckle.

But just as you are about to give in to the cusp of a meager orgasm, the bathroom door outside opens. It is followed by the familiar click of stilettos. You halt all movement and bit back a moan. You watch the shadows shift underneath the gap of your stall door. They grow and darken, circling in place. The clicking ceases and the dark form comes forward to hover just beyond your hiding spot. Then, there is a knock.

“Occupied!” You call out. Your voice is shaky and your fingers pull free.

The shadows remain and another few knocks come after, rather impatiently this time.

_Knock knock knock_

“I said someone is in here!”

 _Click_. Your eyes shift down. The metal latch on the door has begun to move on its own, sliding to unlock. You quickly slip your panties back on and reach out to stop the door. But it pushes open toward you instead, causing you to shuffle back in alarm. Your eyes are held to the floor at first. Where you expect to see sharp heels, the originator of that infernal clicking. But instead you find polished leather. Your gaze moves higher, tracing over two dark pant legs, floating over a belted waist and sleek tie, until finally landing on a familiar smirk.

“Hello,” the intruder says smoothly, revealing a row of pearly white fangs. A stark contrast to the rest of him. Black and foreboding.

At first, your mouth gapes open as you take in the sight of him. So unlike how he first appeared to you: in war leathers and blood. Finally, you remember how to speak. “You can’t be in here,” you mutter. _You can’t be here. You can’t be real._

He laughs, deep in his throat. “I think you want me here,” he replies.

You shake your head in protest, backing up further into the cramped stall. He follows you in. The door closes behind him, moved by an invisible hand. Your back presses up against the makeshift wall and you swallow, hard. The small space is filled by the two of you. And he is far too close for comfort.

“Did you miss me?” He practically purrs. He rests the flat edge of his palm against the wall so you are pinned in.

“No,” you lie, biting your lip. You shift your legs awkwardly until your knee lands between him. It wedges upward and you can feel the beginning of his sex hard against your bone. You jerk back in alarm.

“No?” He cocks an eyebrow in amusement. There is a hint of laughter still playing in his emerald ores even while his lips remain a firm line. “Such a little liar, my pet.”

“I’m not your pet,” you snap. “Not anymore.” 

“Oh,” he begins with a wide grin as he scoops your chin up between his fingertips. “You’ll always be mine.”

Then, his lips meet yours in a collision of aggression and lust. The force of it may be enough to bruise. But he tastes as good as you remember. Like the sour sweetness of sin. Like alcoholic bitters laced with honey. You resist with pursed lips, even though the sensation of his kiss makes you tremble beneath him. That is until you open your mouth ever so slightly to lure him in. Enough to allow your teeth to clamp down around his bottom lip. He jerks back with wide eyes, surprised. He lifts his fingers to his gapping mouth. A splotch of bright red is left on his thumb. He laughs and licks his lips happily, smearing blood along his teeth.

“I’ve missed you too,” he responds before lunging at you a second time. But now, you’ve lost all nerve. You give in to the kiss the way you always do within your dreams. Because as much as you want to hate him, you still long for his embrace. A part of your remembers the pleasure over the pain. Your heart remembers more. But you cannot ignore the way this all began.

“You used me,” you whimper in a brief moment of separation as you shove hard against him for air.

“I did,” he admits and resumes the dance of your tongues. As if to silence any further conversation of the past.

He holds firm to either side of your face as his tongue explores your mouth. His grip is hard, painful. You can taste his blood in your mouth. The irony salt of his core. 

“And I’ll use you now,” he growls as he defiantly bites on your lip, to mirror his own affliction. But his bite does not draw blood as yours had. It merely makes you cry out in pain. “I’ll take what you give me,” he adds with a hand tight around the base of your neck. “I’ll take what is mine.” 

“I’m not yours,” you argue again. “You have no right to me. Or to anything!”

He pulls away slightly and the sudden pain in his eyes leaves you feeling raw. It is a pain he cannot disguise with a glamour, even as his hand rises to the front of your throat. His grip tightens as his eyes glisten and narrow.

“Yes. I am the king of nothing,” he growls in agreement. “The ruler over dust and decay. Of pain and unfathomable misery. And yet still... you want me.”

You shake your head but it’s a lie. It’s all a lie. His grip suddenly loosens and he turns his gaze away. Pain begins to pool over all sense authority, threatening to drown all hope of redemption.

_What would it take to wipe the slate clean? To make you a man worth fighting for?_

Moving without much thought of consequence, you lift a hand to rest against his chest. His heart thunders beneath your touch. Like a caged bird ready to soar. That’s when, finally, you say his name in a whisper. But it sounds more like a prayer.

“Loki...”

He snaps his head back to look upon you. “Don’t speak my name,” he orders. “I will only have my name upon your lips as you cum around my cock. I’d have you cry out in pleasure so that man outside can hear everything he will never have.”

“What man...” you begin to ask but you realize he means your date. How quickly you’d forgotten. Your eyes widen with sudden fear, knowing the path you’ve now unwillingly embarked upon.

His hand falls away from your throat and settles on the front of your blouse. He pulls hard and easily rips the fabric to shreds. You gasp as the plastic beads bounce against the tile floor.

“That man... is a weak mortal,” he snarls. “Nothing in comparison to a God.” 

The remnants of your shirt fall away to reveal the intimate lace underneath, just barely covering the swell of your breasts. With a cruel grin, he traces soft lines over each as if to memorize their unique curve. His lips fall down against the edge of your collarbone. He sucks hard upon your flesh to mark you as claimed.

“You came in here seeking release,” he murmurs into your skin. His fingertips fall to your erect nipples, pinching. You whine and tilt back against the wall. “And I would have your sweet cunt again.” He lifts your leg around his waist for emphasis. Your skirt gathers around your middle. “Do you not want to cum, my sweet little whore?” 

His voice is full of mockery. The entire scenario must be wholly amusing to him. He is the problem as much as he is the solution.

“You are an ass,” you mutter. You push against his shoulders as the heat rises into your cheeks. “I don’t need your help.” 

He chuckles wholeheartedly. The sound of it vibrates within your own bones.

“And still you lie to me,” he laughs. “But I suspect your body is ripe for the taking.”

A single finger, slender and soft, slips past the cotton lining of your panties. It pushes in. You gasp and your nails dig into the fabric of his suit. But you don’t resist it. You want this. You’ve wanted it since you laid eyes upon him in the bar. Or had it started in the chaos of New York? In the destruction that fell from above or amongst the screams of terror in the streets? Where you ran in fear from the alien threat soaring through the skies. 

Fleeing blindly through those streets, you had once collided with the commander of it all. He caught you by your shoulders and pulled you with him into a deserted alley. There was a hunger in his eyes. A burning fire that needed to be quenched. It roared with the heat of his aggression. With his untempered rage. He needed release. He needed a place to sow the seed of his hatred. So his spear struck into your heart and you were his, right there in that dirty, damp alley. Up against the soiled brick. With your legs around his waist, you had moaned together as he left bruises upon your flesh. As he thrust into you hard and fast, his need unbearable. That’s what you remember. That’s all you remember. But for years you’d been told by therapists and agents alike that it had been the influence of that spear that made you comply. But you knew better than that. You had smiled as he came, happy to have been a momentary distraction. Underneath the manipulation, you were awake. So fully alive. And you were happy, strangely, to have had the beast as well as the prince for one fleeting moment of absolute pleasure.

Loki lifts his sodden finger to his lips and pulls you from your reverie as he sucks it clean of your wetness. “Just as sweet I remember,” he says in a sigh. “And all of this is for me. Because of me. Isn’t that right?”

He shoves his finger back inside of you before you can think to answer. But this time, it is joined by a second. He thrusts hard until you cry out his name once more, louder the way he desires. You are clinging to him now in pure desperation. Just as you had then. Just as you remember.

You need more.

“Thats enough!” You scream out in frustrated defeat. “I want it!”

“Want what, sweet thing?” He asks with an all too satisfied grin, waiting.

“I want your cock, you ass.” You smack his shoulder again. Harder. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Wrap your legs around me,” he purrs in command. He reaches down to help you. His hands rest underneath your bottom as you hop up, now fully at his mercy. Your arms intertwine around his neck. You lean in, breathing in the scent of him. The musk of his desire. Your face grows hot with embarrassment for being so easily persuaded. He’d snap his fingers and you’d come running. Like an obedient bitch in heat. You bite your lip and turn your gaze away in shame.

“Now, now. I won’t have any of that.” He lifts a hand momentarily as he pushes you up further against the wall. He holds your face steady and forces you to look at him. “I’d have your gaze upon me.”

You obey, finding it hard to break free from the allure of his brilliant eyes. Once he is sure you will continue to comply, he guides his hand down between you. He sighs deeply, savoring the way you shiver as he caresses the bare skin around your navel. He unbuckles his pants and lets them slide low enough for release. With a hand gripped around his cock, he readies himself for you with a few lazy strokes. The head of it pushes ever so slightly against you, causing you to whimper and cling tight against his back. But he hesitates before sealing your fate.

“I need to hear you say it once more,” he says softly. His demeanor has changed along with his voice. Both somehow unsure, meager in their pursuit. “Tell me this is truly what you want.” His fingers hook around the fabric of your panties, pulling them aside to make room for him.

“Loki... are you asking for permission?” You ask with a small smile, charmed by this brief moment of humanity. And this time, it is your turn to reach for his face and hold him steady. His eyes waver only slightly. You lean in and tenderly kiss his wounded lips. “Yes,” you answer. “I want this. I want you.”

His eyes widen and he suddenly grins wickedly. As if you’ve just fallen straight into his trap like a naive little lamb into the jaws of a salivating wolf.

“You’ll regret admitting to that, slut.”

He thrusts up and fills your dripping cunt with the entirety of his swollen cock in one swift movement. You gasp a moan and clench your thighs tight around him. It’s a snug fit. The girth of him is almost too much to bare. But as he begins to move, thrusting deeper and harder without restraint, you can’t ignore the budding pleasure that begins to boil within the depth of your core. The fit pulls taut the cotton of your panties and you fear they too may rip apart. 

“How’s that feel, pet?” He says your new name with emphasis. To taunt you with it. To remind you that is unwise to regard him as anything other than what he is: a scheming persuader. Not a weak lover as you may have him be. “You always love being fucked by a God. Your tight little pussy is squeezing me so hard. Do you want my cum that badly?” 

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull, making him release a whimper that quickly morphs into laughter. “Don’t cum inside me,” you command with as much authority as you can muster. But it hardly seems to intimidate Loki. He continues to laugh softly before kissing your neck as if to silence himself. 

“You’ll love it,” he whispers into your tender skin and thrusts up again. “It’ll make you feel so nice and warm. I’ll make sure to give you every last drop.”

His hand slides down between your bodies to rub at your barely exposed clit. It is half obscured by the remnants of your underwear. Annoyed, he grabs a fistful of the fabric and tears them away just as you had feared he might do. Now, you are completely bare to him. You peer down to where your bodies meet. As he slides free of you slightly, you can see the evidence of your arousal. Your creamy sleek covers the entirety of his length. It’s hard to deny that it feels good to be fucked by him. The moment he took you in New York, he ruined you from other men. Your date never stood a chance.

You are about to give into him. The swell of your impending orgasm is so near to your grasp, orchestrated by the work of his fingers and the smooth rhythm of his cock. He continues to kiss your neck and whisper tainted praise. How well you fit his needs. How delicious your cunt is. How he wants to fill you with his cum. But then, there is another knock. And this time, it comes from the main bathroom door. Your hand flies forward and clamps over Loki’s mouth to silence him of any potential mischief. You can feel him smirk beneath your palm but, surprisingly, he obeys your muted command. He stops all movement and tightens his grips on your thighs.

From the open doorway you hear someone call out your name. You peer over the stall wall and see the outline of your date standing just behind the entrance, too meek to step inside. His head is turned away.

“Are you alright in there?” Your date asks. He is worried. You’ve been gone too long.

Loki challenges you with a perked eyebrow, and an expression brimming with amusement. _Answer him, pet,_ he seems to say.

“I’m sorry!” You call out. “I’m fine! I’ll just be another minute.” Your voice is labored. It all sounds like a lie. Loki laughs a bit and you tighten your grip around his mouth. He responds by defiantly thrusting back up into you with a muffled growl. You bite back a moan, one you are sure your date must have heard.

“Oh, okay,” your date replies, defeated, if not slightly alarmed. “I’ll uh... just wait for you out here?” 

“Yes!”

Loki rubs deep into your swollen clit, swirling your arousal around as a crude lube. The wave of your impending release comes crushing into you

“Yes, I’ll be coming... coming!”

Your nails take root in the back of Loki’s neck as you cum. You feel your muscles spasm and clench right around him. Loki mutters a muffled curse behind your hand and thrusts deeper. Suddenly, the heat of his release fills you completely. The hot spurts flood your womb and you cry out, uncaring who can hear. You scream his name as your eyes roll back into your skull and the overflow of his cum pours down the curve of your rear. 

You are ruined. Cum-filled and ruined.

In a moment of brief clarity, you can faintly hear the bathroom door swing closed beyond your stall. You try to steady your breathing. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Slowly, you release your makeshift muzzle from Loki’s mouth. He takes the opportunity, lunging toward you to kiss you deeply, a moan shared between your open mouths. 

“You were perfect, pet,” he purrs in praise against your lips. “Absolutely perfect.”

Carefully, he pulls free from inside of you and helps set you back down upon your wobbly legs. He is smiling brightly, as if he couldn’t be happier. But you can only stare down at the mess he has made, sticky between your legs.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Your eyes are still held low to the ground as you try to rearrange the mess of your wardrobe. It is a hopeless effort. Everything is tattered and torn. Loki lifts your chin with the tips of his fingers, lifting your gaze. 

“Did you not enjoy it then?” He asks in a whisper. He looks almost concerned.

“I...” You swallow hard. Your whole body trembles. “I did enjoy it but...”

“How did it feel?” 

“How did what feel?” You blink up at him. His belt is still undone, his hair is skewed; the effect of your hand. And his eyes are bright with triumph. With a burning desire that your lovemaking had hardly extinguished. And he is still smiling.

“You always said you weren’t sure you wanted to try it,” he replies. “But now that we want children, I suppose there is no harm in it...”

 _Children?_ You take a step back. You feel cold suddenly. _What is he talking about?_

“Oh and when he come in like that... oh, it was so wonderful watching how you reacted. My dear little slut, you almost looked ashamed to be heard. It was truly breathtaking.” 

The cold leaves you, only to be replaced for a boiling rage.

“Why did you come here, Loki?” You ask abruptly. “Was it just to humiliate me?”

He looks a bit taken aback as he straightens his tie. “No, it wasn’t.” He reaches out for you, tenderly pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Darling, don’t you remember our deal?”

You jerk away from his touch and slap his hand away.

“What deal?” You snap. There are tears in your eyes and your head feels as if it may split in two.

But he only sighs deeply and smiles at you, rather kindly. “I think that charm may have been a bit too effective.” He sweeps his fingers across your brow. “It was suppose to break once you came... you did cum, didn’t you?”

You shove hard against him until he fumbles back into the opposite wall. “What are you talking about?” You demand in anger. “I’m sick of your riddles!”

He reaches out and kisses you once again. Surprisingly, you let him, despite your growing aggression.

“Let me show you,” he whispers against your lips as once again he kisses you sweetly. This time, the gesture is affectionate, loving. As if he has always known you, in ways more intimate then physical means could allow. More than that fleeting moment with him from the past. Had it truly been only once before? Your memory doesn’t seem to fit in place anymore. Was it New York where you met? Or somewhere else entirely? His lips move and his hand slides down to the base of your neck. And with his touch, comes a plummeting pain as your mind swirls into forced clarity.

He hadn’t manipulated you. No. You’d always wanted him. You’d always been willing. The memory of that dirty alley fades into somethinf more tangible. A bed. Warm and inviting. And your mutual laughter as he tickles you before sliding into you like a glove. That moment from New York, that fabricated memory had been just that. A lie. The truth is so much grander than any of that. Loki. Your love. Your husband. Your mate. 

You draw back and gasp for air, as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe, drowning under the force of all of your returned memories.

“Well?” Loki looks on eagerly, and slightly worried.

“We aren’t trying that again,” you mutter as you hold onto your head. Thor himself could have laid Mjolnir down upon your skull and it might not hurt half as bad as a reversed memory charm. ”I feel hungover. Worse than that time in Tijuana.”

Loki laughs. “Let me remind you, my love, that this was your idea.”

It had been a drunken confession, really. But you liked the idea nonetheless. To live out your ultimate fantasy of being taken advantage of by the God of Mischief. And what better way to fulfill a bear-rape fantasy than through locking your true memories away, and cloaking them with a suggestive replacement. A faux memory in which Loki had previously fucked you, rather ruthlessly and sadistically as any true monster would.

“Tell me that you’ve returned to me, my lovely wife.” He pulls you into him, no longer fearful you may push him away. You surrender into his solid embrace. You fit so perfectly into his arms.

”Did you have to make the memory one where you used the scepter?” You ask. “That felt a bit... unusual.”

“I rather liked it.” He smirks. “Now tell me honestly. How did it feel?” 

You lean up and kiss his jaw softly. “Better than I expected.”

You’d exchanged one fantasy for another. He wanted to be a father. He wanted to fill you with his love. Until now, you’d hesitated. You were unprepared for the consequences. But you are glad to have finally given in. Perhaps, you too had an inclination toward such a kink. You reach down and wipe clean a smear of the residue between your legs as it begins to drip.

“You are still an ass though,” you tell him as a smile forms across your lips. ”You made a mess of me.”

He smiles happily in return, all his teeth in full display. “You look divine... We will have to try that again, won’t we?” He suggests devilishly. “It will be an interesting story to tell our children. The tale of how they were conceived.”

You roll your eyes. “I won’t allow that.” 

He nuzzles against you, laughing. “But I haven’t heard you object to the suggestion of children yet,” he comments. “What do you think? Four, five? I’m willing to try for a few dozen.”

You only laugh in response as you shift away from his embrace. 

“I know how to persuade you,” he says.

“Oh? How’s that?”

His eyes gleam with mischief. He pushes the stall door open and presents his hand out to you. “Patience, pet. You’ll see soon enough.”

You stare at him in awe, your heart overflowing with love. You’ve tamed the beast but he’d awaken one within yourself instead. You take his hand, willing to follow him anywhere he may lead. Into a future full of many more dark pleasures. 

“Come, my love,” he beckons. “Lets go home.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun with that little twist at the end. I hope you liked it!


End file.
